[Illume]

We roam on the outskirts of a world that's a broken home,
From a kingdom honed to hope, to cliques of killer drones,
radioactive isotopes leavin' us skin and bones,
Owing our souls, and we're diggin' ourselves the holes.
With trigonomic precision we're hollered into this prison,
This cult that man is bringin', never figuring faults we finger.
We create a vault for vision that halts the givin',
Stalls the wisdom, stops the driven .. and we still call this livin'?
A rigorous stench of criminal banks, and minimal factions,
Races bend to see killing 'collateral damage',
a cataclysmic blackness is the cause of fanatics,
We're specks on infinity's magic ... tainting the canvas.
The heavens peering upon a perspective planet,
Chaos theory is rampant, a perplexed race of pedantics,
And we expect that karmas lanterns'll control these spasms,
But even this phantom Illuminator sees the light as a has been.